


Everything Comes Back to You

by captainsjedi



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Captain Swan Little Bang 2018, F/M, Killian is Henry's biological dad, Parent/Teacher, Teacher Captain Hook | Killian Jones
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-17
Updated: 2018-02-17
Packaged: 2019-03-20 07:16:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 14,827
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13712646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/captainsjedi/pseuds/captainsjedi
Summary: Ready for a change in their lives, Emma and Henry move from New York to her hometown of Storybrooke. But she gets a bigger change than she bargained for when Henry's new teacher is the ex-boyfriend she hasn't seen since college … who is also Henry's dad, and doesn't know he has a son. Written as part of the Captain Swan Little Bang





	Everything Comes Back to You

**Author's Note:**

> After months of planning, writing, and editing, I can't believe it's finally time to share this not so little story of mine.
> 
> A few thank yous:
> 
> First, to the moderators of the CSLB for putting this event together in the first place and giving me the opportunity to participate. I'm grateful for the ways this experience has challenged me as a writer, and even more so for the friends and connections I've been able to make in the community over the past few months.
> 
> Second, words can't express how lucky I was to get Tessa (@the-reason-to-sail-home on Tumblr and @Lil_Redhead here on AO3) as my beta reader. She's been nothing but encouraging throughout this whole process, helping me deal with writer's block more than a few times and giving incredibly useful feedback. I'm so glad we got paired together and can't wait to read your own LB story soon!
> 
> In addition, I was also lucky to get paired with two insanely talented artists who made gorgeous pieces for my story! Go check out treluna2 and polarbearmorgan's art- I'll be reblogging both on my Tumblr and posting links to them here once they're posted!
> 
> Lastly, I have to thank irishswanff for posting this prompt right before the LB sign ups began. I've never had such a strong initial connection to a story idea before, and I hope you all enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

She should have known this day would come. 

 

Emma stood in the kitchen, mouth agape as she read the letter Henry’s teacher had sent home with him:

 

_ Parents, _

_ Just a reminder parent-teacher conferences are Tuesday afternoon. Feel free to contact me if you have any questions. _

_ Killian Jones _

 

This was just her luck. She couldn’t believe he was in Storybrooke, let alone working at the elementary school. How could she face him after almost ten years, at a  _ parent-teacher conference  _ of all things?

 

More importantly, how would she explain to her son that his new teacher was also his father? 

 

-/-

 

It started at Boston University during junior year. She met him the first day of the fall semester in Professor Gold’s eight A.M. Advanced Psychology class. Bonding over their mutual hatred of the instructor developed into a close friendship neither one of them expected. This lasted until the end of the year, when Killian confessed he couldn’t return to London for the summer without admitting his feelings for her. She’d kissed him in response.

 

Falling in love with Killian Jones had changed her life in a way she hadn’t expected, similar to her experience being taken in by David’s mother in high school. But as much as she loved him, Emma spent the entirety of senior year on edge, waiting for the other shoe to drop. It was impossible for things could stay the same, no matter how much she wanted them to. The closer they got to graduating, the more terrified she grew of what the future had in store.

 

It all went to hell the week before graduation. Killian showed up at her apartment, waving around the paper that confirmed her biggest fears: he’d been granted admission into the Masters of English Lit program at the University of Washington in Seattle. Emma had tried to put on a brave face as she congratulated him, and it worked...until he brought up the topic she’d shied away from for months. 

 

He wanted her to go with him. There was plenty to do with a Criminal Justice degree in Seattle, he’d told her so many times she’d lost count. But this time, she couldn’t dismiss his suggestion and change the subject. The night ended with the worst fight they’d ever had - him upset at her hesitance to move forward in their relationship and her convinced he was moving too fast. She’d thrown him out of the apartment and told him they were over. He knew he couldn’t change her mind.

 

That was the end. He left for Seattle the week after graduation, and she moved to New York, desperate to get away from the place that reminded her of him. It was impossible to walk past the diner that was home to most of their study dates or the park where she’d first kissed him without feeling an overwhelming sense of loss. New York offered exactly what she needed, a chance to start over in a new place with no reminders of the past. 

 

Then she received a permanent reminder of Killian Jones in the form of a positive pregnancy test a month later. 

 

She never told him. There were many times over the next nine months she’d picked up the phone and let her finger hover over his name, then decided against it. He had his own life in Seattle and had long since moved on. The last thing he needed hindering his future was a kid with the girl who had been too scared to be a part of it.

 

The past ten years had been hard, but she and Henry had made out alright. She managed to pay the bills via bail bonds work and raise him on her own. David and Mary Margaret, the only people she had shared the news of her pregnancy with, had been there whenever they’d needed it. The two of them moved to New York before Henry’s birth and stayed until last year when David, eager to return to their roots, had accepted the job as sheriff in their hometown of Storybrooke.

 

Life in New York left little to desire. Henry went to a respectable school, made good grades, and had friends in his class. But after David and Mary Margaret left, it didn’t feel like home anymore. The big city she’d considered a safe haven a decade ago now felt overwhelming. 

 

Emma tried to change this: she convinced Henry to try every extracurricular his school offered, applied at a new bail bonds office, attempted dating a few times. 

 

(That fizzled out as men never asked to see her again once they learned she was a mother.)

 

The decision to pack up and move to Storybrooke was last minute. When she’d graduated, the idea of coming back to the small town where she’d spent her teenage years wasn’t part of the plan - but becoming a mom wasn’t either, and she wouldn’t trade Henry for anything. There were only a few days until the lease on their apartment ended, and she had yet to decide whether to look into other opportunities, or sign on for another year. She’d been mulling over the whole thing on the phone with David when her brother mentioned he was in need of a deputy at the sheriff’s station. She and Henry moved into their new home a week later.

 

The loft differed in comparison to their previous apartment, but Emma liked the open layout and Henry claimed his room upstairs was the best place to build his dream fort. It was nice having family close by for movie nights and lunch on Sundays, which Mary Margaret informed her would now be their new tradition.

 

Her son’s parentage had been a touchy topic of conversation between her and Henry over the past few years. He asked Emma about his dad numerous times, but coming up with a story he’d be satisfied with had become difficult as he’d grown older. The last time he brought the subject up, she’d snapped, “He’s not around, okay?” The curt response had kept him from asking since.  That was a year ago.

 

She thought about Killian often now that Henry looked less like a little boy and more like the pictures she’d once come across in Killian’s old yearbooks. He had Emma’s nose and chin, but everything else about him screamed “Jones.” Somehow, he’d inherited Killian’s mannerisms despite never meeting him. She had lost count of how many times she’d caught him twirling his pencil or tapping his foot on the floor while doing his homework, as his father had done in college when they were studying.

 

Contacting him had crossed her mind a number of times over the years, especially when Henry reached a milestone or event most dads would want to be around for. Locating him wouldn’t have been an issue considering her line of work. Yet, each time, she came to the same conclusion:  _ There’s no need; the two of you are fine by yourselves. You have no idea where he is, or if he has his own family now. It’s best for everyone that he doesn’t know. _ And each time, her heart sank as she believed it and wondered where life had taken him.

 

Now she knew. She would have known sooner had she not been swamped with unpacking the day Henry started at his new school, and David took him instead. He’d been taking the bus since. When asked how his first week had gone, he’d said, “great,” and tried to talk her into letting him watch  _ Deadpool _ . (He’d lost that one before it started.) All she’d heard about his teacher since was he “wasn’t from Storybrooke” was “cool” and “knew a lot about books.” She hadn’t even asked the man’s name.

 

A thought occurred to her: if David had taken Henry to school his first day…

 

“Hey, Emma,” her brother answered the phone.

 

“When were you going to tell me  _ Killian Jones _ was Henry’s teacher?!” 

 

There was dead silence as David tried to come up with a response. “Look, I was gonna tell you, okay? I hadn’t figured out the best way yet. I didn’t know he’d come to Storybrooke until I saw him in Henry’s classroom; he probably hasn’t been here much longer than you.”

 

“Did you speak to him? Does he know who Henry is?”

 

“No, he was busy so I didn’t have a chance to. I’m sure ‘Henry Nolan’ is on the records and he assumed he’s my kid. It’s not like he’d know otherwise.” David and Killian were friends in college thanks to his relationship with Emma, but from what she knew, they hadn’t been in contact since. She’d made it clear David and Mary Margaret weren’t allowed to contact him when they found out she was pregnant.

 

“Shit. He’s going to have a major bomb dropped on him at parent-teacher conferences.”

 

“Oh, wow. Erm...good luck?”

 

“Thanks for the encouragement,” she deadpanned. 

 

“Sorry. I’m not trying to make you feel worse, but have you thought about how  _ he’s  _ going to feel? I know you had your reasons for not telling him, but this isn’t a small secret you’ve kept. I don’t know how I’d react if Mary Margaret and I broke up, and she found me later to say I’d been a father for a decade without knowing it.”

 

_ Yeah, but you and Mary Margaret were a match made in heaven _ . “I know. I made a mistake, and it’s time to deal with the consequences.”

 

“If it helps, I don’t know how he’ll feel about the not-knowing, but I don’t think he’ll dislike the idea of being a dad.”

 

“What makes you say that?”

 

“I wasn’t in his classroom long that day, but I saw enough: he’s great with kids.”

 

-/-

 

After hanging up with David, Emma called the school to schedule her time slot for the parent-teacher conference. Coincidentally she’d called on short notice and the last slots available were the earliest and the latest. She opted for the latter; this conversation was bound to be a long one. 

 

She spent the next few days on pins and needles, dreading the reunion with her ex-boyfriend. David’s comment had made her feel both better and worse. Truthfully, she’d always known Killian would make a great father. If she had told him the truth, though, would that have mended things between them? She hadn’t wanted to move to Seattle with him because of her own fears and insecurities. Having his child hadn’t helped, as she constantly asked, “what if?” What if she’d decided to go and things fell apart later? Would she have been stuck as a single mom, alone on the other side of the country? What if them having a baby had stood in the way of the opportunities Killian had and he resented her for it? What if he was okay with being a dad, but only stayed with her out of a sense of obligation for Henry? 

 

Each of these “what if’s” made it harder for her to reach out to him, though she knew they were wrong. If they’d had Henry together and broken up afterwards, it was hard to imagine he would have left her to raise him alone. Which is why she knew how furious he would be when she came clean.

 

(She couldn’t say she blamed him.)

 

-/-

 

Emma put off coming to the school but was still early, hands shaking as she stood in the hall and watched the hands on her wristwatch move at an agonizing speed. Henry had gotten off of the bus and went to the library with Mary Margaret. He wanted to come with her, but his aunt’s offer to spend the afternoon with him seemed more appealing than discussing his academic performance. 

 

(Among other things he had no idea about.) 

 

The classroom door opened and a dark haired man walked out with a girl she assumed was his daughter. “Mr. Jones said to send you in,” he told Emma as he took the girl’s hand and they left.

 

She walked into the room before she lost her nerve. Her heart constricted when she saw him sitting behind his desk, back turned to her as did something with a stack of papers. “Just a moment, and I’ll be finished here,” he called over his shoulder.

 

“Take your time.” There was a catch in her voice as she tried to keep her composure.

 

Killian recognized her voice - there was a sharp intake of breath as his back stiffened and he spun around in his chair to face her. His eyes widened as he took her in. “Swan?”

 

“Hi,” she whispered. Emma knew seeing him again would sting, but she never expected it to feel like such a punch to the gut. He’d changed since college - shorter hair, more scruff, wearing a button down and khakis instead of a band t-shirt and jeans - but it seemed like no time had passed since she’d seen him for the last time at their graduation. He even wore what looked to be a pair of horn-rimmed reading glasses, and she forced herself not to think about just how much he reminded her of Harrison Ford.

 

He stood and came around the desk. “Swan...what are you doing here? In Storybrooke?”

 

“I moved back last week.” She paused, feeling awkward. “I got a note saying parent-teacher conferences were today. So, here I am.” 

 

There was a flicker of emotion - surprise, disappointment, or both? - on his face as he heard why she’d come. “I wasn’t aware you had a child. Who is-“

 

“Henry. I’m Henry’s mom.” 

 

“Ah.” Killian smiled. “Bright lad, I could tell from his first day.” He seemed to think there was nothing odd about her having a child old enough to be in the fourth grade. Did he assume she’d found someone else so soon after they’d broken up?

 

“I’m glad you think so.” She gulped as she prepared to tell him the reason she’d come. “Killian, there’s something you need to know about Henry.”

 

“Aye? Is he having difficulties adjusting to the school? It’s normal, but I’ll do whatever’s necessary to help.”

 

“No, nothing like that.” Her eyes pricked with tears when she realized how much he already cared about Henry. “The thing is, he’s not just  _ my _ son.”

 

Killian’s brow furrowed with confusion. “What do you mean?’

 

“He’s  _ nine  _ years old, Killian.” She waited for him to absorb the meaning behind her words, hoping they would be enough for him to piece things together.

 

It worked. He froze, looking at Emma as he processed the connection. “Is he...mine?” he whispered, voice barely audible.

 

He sounded worried, scared even. “Yes. He’s yours.”

 

Despite her urge to run, Emma watched as he sat down on the edge of his desk, removed his glasses and covered his face with his hands. 

 

“Killian, I-”

 

“Bloody hell,” he muttered. “Bloody  _ hell _ .” He got to his feet again. “Does he know? About me? Is that why you came back?”

 

“No. He has no idea. I didn’t know you were here until he brought your note home.”

 

This bit of information seemed to be worse than anything she’d shared. “So you were never going to tell me?” he spat, hands clenched at his side. “You did because you had to?”

 

“That’s not what I meant-”

 

“No, I think you meant you were going to let my child grow up without letting his father know he existed!”

 

“Look, I’m sorry, Killian!” she pleaded with him. “I know there’s no excuse for not telling you. I thought it would be for the best.”   

 

“What does that mean, Emma? For the best? Were you under the impression I would be such a terrible father?” He paused, thinking of something else. “Did you know before graduation? Is that why you ended things between us?”

 

“No! I didn’t find out until you left and I’d moved to New York. I was going to tell you- I almost did so many times- but I knew you had a life in Seattle and I didn’t want to make things complicated for you.”

 

“Yes, I had a life, Emma. But a life I would have  _ gladly _ given up for my child!”

 

It should have been reassuring, but it wasn’t. She spent so long scared of what the truth might cause, and he’d told her she’d no reason to be. “I believe you, alright? But that would’ve been hard to believe ten years ago when we’d broken up. I thought you’d resent me for making your life complicated or you’d feel an obligation to stay because of Henry.”

 

Killian said nothing, still processing what he’d learned. “I don’t expect you to be happy with me,” she continued. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you, and you had to find out like this. I know there’s nothing I can do to make up for the past, but we can change that for the future.” 

 

A look of confusion flickered across his face. “What are you saying, Swan?”

 

“I’m saying you can be involved with him, if you want to.” She knew the words were absurd; of course he wanted to based on his reaction. “I know it’s complicated with you being his teacher, but we can work something out. He already thinks the world of you.”

 

She felt relieved to see his lips turn up at the corners. “Really?”

 

“Yeah. He thinks it’s cool you’re from London and know so much about books. He wants to be a writer.”

 

“I can see that. But it’s never occurred to me,” he looked at her with something besides anger in his eyes, “until now. He looks like you, Swan.”

 

“Not always, especially when he’s trying to concentrate. He does the thing with his pencil you always did in school.”

 

Killian smiled, a real smile, not unlike the ones from their best memories together. “I’ll keep an eye out for that in the future.” He realized the time and cursed. “Bloody hell. Swan, I hate to cut this short, but there’s a meeting with the county superintendent in ten minutes that I have to attend. Could we pick this conversation up again later?”

 

“Yeah, sure. I’m working second shift tomorrow and Thursday, but I have Friday afternoon off if you wanna get coffee and talk. Henry’s going camping with David and Mary Margaret this weekend, anyway.” Her son didn’t need to know she met his teacher outside of school when she couldn’t provide him with an explanation.

 

“I can do that.” The way his face had fallen a bit at the mention of Henry’s name hadn’t gone unnoticed to Emma. She expected their situation to be messy, but realized how difficult it would be for Killian: being around his own child, yet forced to stay quiet until they discussed the best way to reveal his parentage. “That Granny’s place you used to talk about has decent coffee. Unless there’s somewhere else you’d prefer.”

 

She couldn’t believe he’d remembered her love for the local diner. “As much as I love Granny’s, it’s not the place to go for conversations you don’t want publicized.” One of Granny’s customers or the owner herself could have a rumor about the new deputy and the fourth-grade teacher spread across Storybrooke in minutes.

 

“Good point.”

 

“There’s a place over on Second Street I’ve heard good things about. Have you been there?”

 

“No, but I’ve heard pleasant things from other teachers. I can be there by four if that’s alright.”

 

“It’s a date. I mean...” She stammered for better words. “I should go so you can get to your meeting. Bye, Killian.” 

 

Emma ran out of the room and barely heard his soft, “Goodbye, love.”

 

She didn’t stop until she got to her car, plopping down in the driver's seat as her head fell against the wheel. In hindsight, things could have gone worse. He had rightly been upset, but it seemed he would put aside his animosity to be part of their son’s life. Explaining this to a child would be difficult, but she didn’t think Henry would be upset since he’d been asking questions about his dad and getting no answers for years.

 

But co-parenting wouldn’t be the hardest part, not by a long shot. She’d gone into that classroom thinking her walls were up, armor intact to ensure whatever feelings she had towards Killian wouldn’t be a factor.

 

She thought she was over him and could handle what they were getting into.

 

She was wrong.

 

-/-

 

“It sounds like things went well.” 

 

Emma sat at David and Mary Margaret’s kitchen table two days later, having hot cocoa and snickerdoodles with her sister-in-law while David and Henry packed for their trip. At times like this she couldn’t complain about living a flight of stairs away.

 

“I guess. I didn’t know what to expect. He was nicer to me than I deserved.” She took a sip of her drink before again asking Mary Margaret the question that had been on her mind for days. “You didn’t know he was in Storybrooke? You both work for the school system!”

 

“And we work at two different schools, Emma,” she reminded her. “I don’t see teachers from the elementary school often, unless there’s some kind of county-wide event.” Mary Margaret had started teaching first grade when she and David moved back to Storybrooke, but transferred to the middle school last year. “Besides, the semester started less than a month ago.” 

 

“I can’t understand how he showed up right before I moved back. What made him choose Storybrooke, anyway? It’s my hometown, but it’s not like he’d been here before.” She’d had every intention of bringing Killian to visit while they were dating, but they’d broken up before she had the chance.

 

“He may have never visited, but the way we talked about Storybrooke would give anybody a good idea about what kind of place it is. Maybe he got tired of being in the city and wanted a change.”

 

Mary Margaret was capable of making the most complicated things make sense. “Did you see him Tuesday? I left because he had to go to some meeting with the superintendent.”

 

“Yes, I did. That’s the only time, although I knew he was here since you showed me the note Henry brought home.”

 

“Did you speak to him? Did he say anything about…” She trailed off, embarrassed to say _ about me? _

 

“No. But we didn’t talk much,” Mary Margaret added, noticing the look of disappointment Emma had failed to mask. “It was in passing, something about how long it had been, and we kept going.”

 

Emma didn’t know if this made her feel better. The subject of Killian had been a sensitive one between them over the years. Although she hadn’t said so since her return to Storybrooke, Emma knew Mary Margaret hadn’t approved of her keeping such a monumental secret from him. She was thankful she had yet to hear a lecture beginning with, “I told you so.”

 

“Are you two going to be co-parenting now?”

 

“I don’t know what other option there is, considering Killian wants to be involved with Henry. But it’s gonna take some time to get there. Him being Henry’s teacher could complicate things.”

 

Mary Margaret smiled, the grin meaning she would get a motivational speech about hope or happy endings. “You’ll figure something out, Emma. I know you have the best of intentions. This could end up being the start of something great.”

 

“I hope so, Mary Margaret. I really hope so.”

 

-/-

 

Emma tapped her fingers against the table as she looked from the door of the coffee shop to the clock oh her phone. She’d arrived early, as she had at the school a few days ago, and claimed a table where Killian would see her when he arrived, but far back enough to ensure they would be having a private conversation. The coffee shop was sparsely populated in comparison to Granny’s on any afternoon, but she wasn’t willing to take chances.

 

She glanced at her phone again. It was almost four; Killian should be leaving the school. He was a stickler for time; something told her that hadn’t changed.

 

“Can I get you something now?” The perky, pink-haired waitress who’d tried to take her order four times since she’d arrived was at her table once again. She must have thought Emma had been stood up or was taking up space for no reason since she’d been there awhile and had yet to order anything. 

 

Emma smiled at the girl despite her agitation. “Not yet. My...friend should be here soon.”

 

The girl looked skeptical, but Emma must have given her the impression she didn’t want to be messed with today. “Alright. Let me know when you’re ready.”

 

She sighed with relief when the girl left. 

 

“Bad day, love?”

 

Emma startled. She hadn’t noticed Killian arrive or sit down across from her. 

 

“Apologies, Swan.” He tried not to laugh. “I didn’t intend to frighten you.”

 

She felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment. “You didn’t scare me.” She sounded unconvincing. “Just didn’t hear you come in. Um, do you want coffee? I would have ordered something but I didn’t know what you’d want.” 

 

She motioned for the waitress, who seemed surprised she was needed. Emma realized there was no point in making the girl wait when he ordered plain black coffee, like he drank it in school. 

 

She couldn’t help but wrinkle her nose when he took a long swig of his drink without adding cream or sugar. “I should’ve known,” she told him when he laughed at her expression. “You always drank the boring stuff.” 

 

“Sorry. I can’t say I like having coffee in my cream.” Killian indicated to her own drink, a light tan color once she’d finished stirring in milk. “How is life treating you, love?”

 

“Okay.” She’d hoped they could wait before changing the subject and discussing the reasons they had agreed to meet. “There’s not a lot of crime to deal with, so that’s nice. Unless you count Leroy getting drunk and disturbing the peace at least once a week.”

 

“I’m afraid I know who you’re referring to. He showed up at my apartment building after I moved in and started a ruckus with the bloke next door.” 

 

She changed the subject with what had been on her mind since Tuesday. “Killian, I know you and I have a lot to talk about. But I need to say thank you before anything else.’

 

He raised any eyebrow at her over the rim of his coffee mug, confused. “What on earth for, Swan? I haven’t done anything.”

 

“Yes, you have. I was horrible for keeping Henry from you, and yet you seem willing to look past that to be a part of his life. I’m not sure a lot of guys would do the same.”

 

“Emma.” He looked her in the eye. “Let’s make two things clear: first, I would never abandon, ignore, or mistreat my child, no matter my feelings toward their mother.” She didn’t need to question him to know it was true. “And secondly, I won’t lie, I’m still upset you didn’t tell me about Henry from the beginning.”

 

“I can’t say I blame you.”

 

“But,” he continued, “I realize you were in a tough spot. We had broken up, I was on the other side of the country. I also realize that had I put more into our relationship, it could have given you confidence that I would have stayed. And for that, I apologize.” He held up his hand to prevent her from disagreeing. “No, Swan. That much is on me. I was too concerned about Seattle to consider how it would change things for us. Again, I wish things could’ve been different, but I’m trying to see things from your perspective. I don’t see a need to dwell on the past when there’s the future and our son to be concerned about.”

 

Emma smiled, still bewildered by his attitude. “I appreciate that.”

 

They continued in casual conversation, most of it involving Henry and his and Emma’s life before Storybrooke. She waited for Killian to explain what brought him there too, but his expression when she hinted at the subject made it clear he wasn’t up for that discussion yet.

 

“He tried sports, but that didn’t last more than a year. He likes books and movies more than anything,” she told Killian when asked about Henry’s interests. “Sometimes that keeps him from fitting in with other kids, but he had a few good friends in New York. I hope he finds some here, too.”

 

Killian appeared more than satisfied with what he’d learned about his son. “He’s a bright lad, Swan. I’m sure he’ll have more friends than he knows what to do with.” Despite his approval, however, he wasn’t telling her something.

 

“What’s wrong, Killian? And don’t say ‘nothing’; I can spot a lie from a mile away.”

 

“That much hasn’t changed,” he chuckled. “I understand why you’d want to handle all of this with Henry slowly. He’s a child; this will be a lot for him. But Emma, he’s almost ten years old. I’ve missed so much of his life already, and-”

 

“You don’t want to miss more,” Emma finished. “That’s understandable.” She didn’t want the guilt of keeping him from Henry any longer. “Tell me something, though - are you allowed to have your own child in your class? Is that something the school would have an issue with?”

 

Killian shrugged. “It’s not the ideal circumstances, but there’s no policy against it. The third grade teacher’s twin girls are in her class. If it is against policy, there’s not much the school administration can do about it, considering there’s one teacher per grade, and I didn’t know Henry was my son beforehand.”

 

“Good to know.” At least his job wasn’t at risk. “I guess the next thing I have to do is talk to him.”

 

“Any idea how you’re going to go about that?”

 

“None. But I have until he comes back Sunday afternoon to think about it. I know beating around the bush won’t be an option; he’s too clever.”

 

“I’m sure you’ll figure out what’s best. And if you need anything, don’t hesitate to let me know. I want to be there...for Henry,” he added. 

 

The last bit stung more than it should have. Of course he wanted to be there for Henry, but she remembered a time when he wanted to be there for her, too. Emma cursed herself for thinking about the past. She’d broken up with Killian, and she’d kept his son hidden from him for years. He’d moved on, and it was past time for her to accept it.

 

“I’m curious, love, what made you name him Henry Nolan?” He broke her reverie of thoughts. “I assumed he was David and Mary Margaret’s child at first.”

 

“Honestly? I felt better naming him ‘Nolan’ instead of ‘Swan,’”, she admitted. “My last name is something I chose and doesn’t have sentimental ties. I wanted Henry to be named after his family instead. It causes some confusion with legal stuff, but I don’t regret it.”

 

He nodded understandingly. “Sounds like you made the right choice.” It was a comfort to know he wasn’t one of those guys who got upset about not sharing a name with his kid.

 

They left the cafe soon after, Killian needing to grade papers and Emma heading to the station for the night shift. They exchanged numbers before leaving, Emma promising to let him know when she had the chance to talk things over with Henry.

 

She got in her car and drove away, watching in the rearview mirror as Killian walked home in the other direction. Her stomach lurched as she considered what the two - rather, three - of them were about to begin. Whether she was more hopeful or terrified, she didn’t know.

 

-/-

 

“When are you gonna tell me what’s going on?”

 

Emma and Henry hadn’t been away from the loft five minutes before he questioned why she wanted to go out right after he’d returned from his trip. He had now asked so many times she’d lost count.

 

“Can a mother not want to spend time with her son after he’s been gone all weekend?”

 

“Yeah...but you’d never let me have pizza  _ and  _ doughnuts unless something’s up.” 

 

That was true. They had lunch at the local pizza place, followed by a trip to the bakery where she let him eat as many chocolate frosted doughnuts as he wanted. “All right, kid. You’ve got me.” They had taken a walk after leaving the bakery and were now at the park. “There’s something you and I need to talk about.” She walked over to the nearest bench and sat down, motioning for Henry to do the same.

 

He sat down beside her, worried. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

 

“I’m fine, Henry. Yes, something happened. Nothing bad, just something I’ve put off telling you for way too long now.”

 

“Is it about my dad?” Henry didn’t miss a beat.

 

“How did you kno- nevermind. Yes, it’s about your dad.”

 

“Have you talked to him? Does he know about me? Who is he?”

 

“Woah, slow down, kid. Yes, I’ve talked to him. He knows about you. In fact, you two have already met.”

 

“I have?! Who is he?”

 

Emma had intended to ease him into this slowly, but she could tell from his wide eyes and the way he clutched her arm he wouldn’t give her that option. “He’s your teacher, Henry. Mr. Jones is your dad.”

 

Henry didn’t seem to understand. Then, “Really?! Mr. Jones?” His sudden excitement wavered. “Why hasn’t he said anything? He’s been acting like my teacher since I started school here. Does he not wanna be my dad?”

 

“No, Henry! It’s not that. He didn’t know he was your dad until I went to your school and talked to him.”

 

“So...you never told him about me?”

 

“I’m so sorry, Henry,” she whispered, the hurt look on his face pricking her eyes with unshed tears. “I know I did you both wrong by keeping you from him. I was scared of what might happen, but that wasn’t fair to you. But,” she clasped his hand in hers, “the important thing is, he knows about you. He wants to be your dad, and I want him to be your dad, too, if you’re okay with it.” She watched as he contemplated everything she’d shared. 

 

He finally smiled and threw his arms around her. “Of course I’m okay with it! I have a dad! And I already know he’s cool. Can I talk to him? Now?”

 

“Okay, kid. I’ll see if he’s busy.” She released him and grabbed her phone, sending a text to the number he’d given her. _ I talked to Henry. He wants to see you. Can you come to the playground at the park? _

 

He responded within seconds.  _ On my way. _

 

Henry asked a myriad of questions as they waited. How had they met? What Killian was like? Why was he in Storybrooke? She answered them as well as she could (aside from the last one). “He likes books and movies, like you. I remember he used to be big on Peter Pan. Harry Potter, too.” Henry’s eyes lit up. She knew there would be harder questions (why had they broken up, what their attempt at co-parenting would involve), but at least he knew the truth about Killian. 

 

A few minutes had passed when she spotted headlights as a familiar black Mustang drove into the parking lot. (She couldn’t believe he still drove the old car he’d bought right after they met, when he always gave her a hard time about her bug.) Emma watched as Killian got out and fixed his gaze on them. She worried about what Henry would say. He had taken the news well, but this would overall be the biggest adjustment for him.

 

Killian approached them slowly, his nervous gaze implying he was just as torn on what to say. Henry, however, solved that problem. When he’d managed to say, “Henry, I-” the boy jumped up from the bench and threw his arms around his father. 

 

Killian looked bewildered; he must have not expected Henry to react so well. He returned the hug.

 

“So, you’re my dad?”   

 

“Aye.” There was a catch in his voice; Emma realized he was trying not to cry.

 

He was laughing a moment later as Henry bombarded him with questions. “When’s your birthday? How old are you? Do you know what Hogwarts house you’re in? Mom and I are both Gryffindors. Please tell me you like hot cocoa with cinnamon?”

 

“Woah, kid. Give him time to catch up,” Emma walked over to them, putting her hand on Henry’s shoulder. “I have a feeling you’ll have plenty of time to talk about Hogwarts houses and hot cocoa.” 

 

They took long walk around the park, Emma hanging back a bit to give Henry a chance to talk to Killian alone. She expected Killian to get tired of the endless questions, but he answered them all and listened to everything Henry said with genuine interest.

 

It felt like playing devil’s advocate when she noticed the time and had to press pause on their time together. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news,” she interrupted, catching up to them, “but it’s getting late. Someone still has math homework to finish before bed.” Henry made a sour face.

 

“She’s right, lad,” Killian agreed. “It’s time I let the two of you go.” 

 

If not for her self restraint, Henry’s disappointed expression would have been enough for her to let him talk to Killian all night. “Okay,” he sighed in defeat. “But we can do this again, right?”

 

Killian hesitated, looking back and forth between her and Henry. “I’d be more than happy to, but it’s ultimately up to your mother.” 

 

It hurt to hear he still wasn’t convinced Emma would want them spending time together. “Of course,” she told them. “It’ll take time to figure out something for our schedules, but you can absolutely do this again.”

 

There was much more needed to be discussed, but the sky was growing dark and Henry would need to be in bed soon. Killian hugged him goodbye as he and Emma discussed a time to sit down and talk again, deciding to meet in a few days at the coffee shop. 

 

Henry talked about Killian nonstop the rest of the night, and for the first time in his life, seemed excited about going to school the next morning. 

 

“You realize he still has to be Mr. Jones to you at school, don’t you?” she asked. “He can’t treat you differently because you’re his kid.”

 

“It’s okay. I’m just happy I have a dad.”

 

She sent Killian a text after Henry went to bed.  _ Thanks for coming tonight. It meant a lot to him. _

 

_ It meant a lot to me as well. _

 

Not for the first time that night, Emma regretted the decision to keep a secret ten years ago.

 

-/-

 

“What do you think?” Mary Margaret held a bright blue dress up for Emma’s observation.

 

“It’s gorgeous. The yellow one is nice too, though.” Emma wasn’t sure how she wound up spending her Saturday off helping her sister-in-law find a new dress for the sixth-grade dance she was chaperoning the next weekend.

 

Oh, wait. It was because Mary Margaret had used the fact Henry wouldn’t be around today as leverage.

 

As if she’d read her mind, Mary Margaret asked, “What are Henry and Killian up to today?”

 

“Not sure. I think they were going to see a movie, and to the park if the weather’s nice.” It had been over a month since she told Henry that Killian was his father. Since then, they’d made arrangements for the two of them to spend Monday, Wednesday, and Friday afternoons, as well as every other Saturday together.

 

“This new arrangement seems to be working out well,” Mary Margaret mused. “Oh! This would look perfect on you.” 

 

A pale pink dress with sleeves was thrust into Emma’s arms. “It still feels weird sharing him,” she admitted, “but it’s good so far. And how many times do I have to tell you I’m  _ not _ going to that dance? Henry’s not even in sixth grade.” 

 

“Parent chaperones are welcome, too. We don’t have an overwhelming amount of teachers on staff. So Killian’s doing alright at the whole ‘dad’ thing?”

 

“I wish you’d stick to one subject,” Emma muttered as she put the pink dress away; it was nice, but she didn’t need it. “I mean, I’m not around him all that much. But Henry loves spending time with him, and Killian has his best interests in mind.” To be truthful, she’d been avoiding contact with him other than the occasional text about plans with Henry, and when he was dropped off and picked up on his days with Killian. She had no objections with them spending time together, but was afraid getting too involved would stir up old feelings and cause problems for everyone.

 

“I’m happy he’s getting to be a part of his life after all this time.”

 

Emma suppressed a groan. “Are you going to put me on a guilt trip for not telling him about Henry before I did? Because if you are-”

 

“Relax, Emma,” Mary Margaret cut her off.  “I’m saying it’s good the three of you are getting a chance to be a family.”

 

“I’m sorry, family?”

 

“Well, you two were in love, and you  _ do _ have a child together, so…”

 

“Mary Margaret, I’m glad you’re optimistic. But Killian and I aren’t you and David. Whatever there was between us ended a long time ago. We’re co-parenting, and maybe we can be friends, but don’t get your hopes up for more.”

 

The look on her sister-in-law’s face showed she was unconvinced, but she dropped the subject. 

 

(Although, Emma had a feeling this conversation was far from over.)

 

-/-

 

“Alright, kid. I bought popcorn, milk duds, and hot chocolate mix. All you need to do is pick the movie.”

 

Emma followed Henry into the loft and kicked the door shut behind her, carrying the bags of things they’d picked up at the store for movie night. She was glad to have time with him. David was working at the station, and Mary Margaret and Killian were both chaperoning the dance tonight. While their last few months in New York had been lonely, it was nice to know her son wanted to spend time with her despite everyone else in his life now.

 

“I’m thinking a sequel. Maybe  _ Empire Strikes Back _ or  _ Temple of Doom _ ?”

 

“Either sounds good to me. Or, I might let you stay up late enough to watch both.”

 

Henry’s face lit up as he grinned and bolted over to the couch. “Great, let’s start now so you won’t fall asleep.” 

 

“Hey!” Emma protested as she put away their groceries. “I fell asleep during movie night  _ once _ , and-” She stopped at the sound of her phone ringing. She saw Mary Margaret’s name and prepared for a short conversation; Henry was adamant about making sure no part of a movie was missed. 

 

“Emma? Are you home?” 

 

“Yeah, Henry and I just got in.”

 

“Oh, thank goodness! I worried you might be out. Is there any way you could do me a favor?”

 

“Of course.” Something told Emma she should have waited to hear the favor first.

 

“Great! Because I’m under the weather, and wanted to know if there’s any way you’d consider chaperoning the sixth-grade dance for me? It’s required a certain amount of adults be there.”

 

Mary Margaret didn’t  _ sound  _ under the weather. “I’m the only one that could do it? I’m sure there are dozens of parents who’d love to come embarrass their kids.”

 

“I would try someone else, but the dance is in less than an hour. I might not have time if I can’t get someone now. Please?” Mary Margaret pleaded. “I’ll owe you one.”

 

“Yes, you will,” said Emma. “Fine. I’ll find someone for Henry to stay with and throw myself together. What do you wear to a sixth-grade dance?”

 

“Don’t worry about it. I may have left something in your closet after we went shopping last weekend.”

 

“What?”

 

“Thanks a million, you’re the best, bye!” Mary Margaret hung up before Emma could question her further. 

 

_ Why do I have the feeling she’s got something up her sleeve? _

 

“Sorry, kid.” She sat down beside Henry as he looked through their Netflix queue. “Movie night’s being postponed; I have to go to the dance at your school in Mary Margaret’s place.”

 

“That’s okay. We can reschedule.”

 

“Thanks for having a good attitude.” Emma smiled and hugged him. “The problem is finding someone for you to hang out with. Mary Margaret’s sick, and Kil- your dad will be chaperoning the dance, too.” She hadn’t considered this fact until now, and felt nervous. “David’s working, but I’ll see about dropping you off with him if things are quiet at the station.”

 

“Awesome! I can show him the level I started!” Henry jumped off the couch and bolted upstairs to get his Gameboy.

 

She arranged to drop Henry off with David on her way to the school. Now, if she could make herself presentable to spend a Saturday night with a crowd of kids...and Killian.

 

_ It’s not like it’s a date or anything _ . She opened the closet to see what Mary Margaret had left her.

 

The garment bag stood out among her other clothes. Inside held the pink dress they’d found shopping, with a note taped to the hanger: _ I knew you wouldn’t buy it, but it suited you too well to pass it up. You’re welcome :) _

 

People could say what they wanted about Emma’s sister-in-law, but it they couldn’t deny she had impeccable taste. The dress fit her like a glove, a relief as she had little to choose from besides the short, tight numbers from her bail bonds jobs not suited for a night spent with a bunch of prepubescent teens. 

 

She finished getting ready twenty minutes before the dance was to start, leaving enough time to leave Henry with David and drive over to the school. The parking lot was crowded; Mary Margaret must not have been kidding when she said all school employees were to help.

 

There was a chill in the air. Emma shivered as she stepped out of the bug and wished she’d forgone the dress for something warmer. At least she’d thought to grab a sweater on her way out the door. She pulled the grey cardigan around her as she walked into the school, not for the first time wondering what she had gotten into. 

 

The gymnasium was decorated nicely for a dance. The room was filled with the school colors of white and blue, and there were fairy lights strung up everywhere, even the stage where the DJ stood. He looked to be in his late teens, as if this dance were the last place he wanted to be.

 

Emma scanned the room for familiar faces, a regular customer at Granny’s or the librarian Henry liked. Socializing hadn’t been high on her priority list since moving thanks to more important things. She remembered there should be a face in the crowd that was more than familiar, and the thought had her stomach in knots. She considered turning back and walking out while she had the chance when she saw him standing alone to the side. 

 

Glancing at him was enough to make Emma stop in her tracks. She knew she would see him tonight - that was inevitable. She didn’t know he’d manage to have such an effect on her after all these years. 

 

He wore all black: leather jacket, button up shirt, jeans, and boots, not unlike the outfits he wore in college. Since reconnecting in Storybrooke, she’d grown used to seeing him in blazers and slacks, like most of the other teachers. It was why seeing him now caught her off guard- for the first time in ten years, it felt like looking at the man she fell in love with.

 

Killian noticed her then. She realized he had seen her staring and blushed with embarrassment. 

 

“Um, hi,” she said sheepishly when he walked over. 

 

“Hello, love,” He smiled, and she hated the way it made her heart constrict. “Not that I’m unhappy to see you, but what are you doing here? I would’ve assumed you finished sixth-grade by now.”

 

She laughed. “Smart ass. Mary Margaret’s sick and asked me to fill in her chaperoning duties, whatever those are.”

 

“Nothing difficult. Just keep an eye on the students and ensure they’re not doing anything unbecoming.”

 

“They’re in sixth-grade!”

 

“Aye, but you’d be surprised.” He noticed she was alone. “Where’s Henry?”

 

“With David. I thought he’d get bored since he doesn’t know many of the older students.” This was the first conversation they’d had without their son since they’d come up with an arrangement for he and Killian spending time together. “He had a lot of fun with you at the movies last weekend. It’s all he’s talked about since.”

 

Killian smiled. Something told her the words meant more than he let on. “I enjoyed it as well. I, erm, appreciate all the time you’ve allowed him to spend with me.”

 

She wanted to ask  _ Why wouldn’t I? He’s your son _ . But she knew the answer: because she’d gone nearly a decade without letting him be a part of Henry’s life. The guilt had eaten at her far before she’d told him the truth, but seeing how he prioritized having a relationship with their son made it worse. “It means a lot that you’ve made room for him in your life,” she told him instead.

 

The sound of footsteps interrupted them. “Jones, I pay you to work, not to flirt with parents.”

 

A tall brunette woman glared at Killian, arms crossed over her chest. It took a glance at her pantsuit and heels, plus the description Mary Margaret had given her to assume she was the school’s principal. “Miss Mills?”

 

The woman looked from Killian to Emma. “Yes? And _ you _ are?”

 

_ I’m wondering who had the right mind to appoint you head of an elementary school.  _ “I’m Emma Swan, Mary Margaret Blanchard’s sister-in-law. She’s sick so I’m here to chaperone in her place.”

 

Regina pursed her lips as if she were trying to decide if she approved of Emma. “Yes, the new deputy. I’ve heard about you. Isn’t your son a student here?”

 

“Yeah. Henry’s in the fourth-grade.” Her eyes flickered to Killian, who had his on Regina. She didn’t know if he had shared the details of his relationship with Henry with anyone else at the school, or in Storybrooke for that matter.

 

The unassuming look on the principal’s face insinuated he hadn’t. “Well, I appreciate your coming to help. But Mr. Jones needs to stop appreciating it long enough to get extra cups and plates out of the supply closet like I asked him to five minutes ago.” She gestured to the table of refreshments on the other side of the room, which appeared to be stocked with enough cups and plates already.

 

“I’m sorry,” Emma began. “I shouldn’t have-”

 

“Don’t worry about it, love.” Killian cut her off. “Apologies, Regina. I’ll get what you need right away.” The principal walked away without responding.

 

“Is she always like that?”

 

Killian chuckled. “Usually. The students like her well enough though, and for some reason, so do their parents. Well- _ most _ of them,” he corrected when noticing the expression on her face.

 

“If you say so. Let me help get you get that stuff so I can avoid running into her again.”

 

Emma followed him out of the gymnasium and down the hall to a closet where they found the plates and cups Regina had so graciously requested. 

 

“Thank you for the help, love,” he told her after they had delivered the supplies, “but you didn’t have to do anything.”

 

“I wanted to.” They had found themselves back in another corner of the gym, close enough to where they could keep an eye on the kids, but far away enough they could talk without being overheard. “It’s nice to see a familiar face,” she continued. “I’ve kept to myself since moving back. Being somewhere like this is almost unnerving.”

 

“Aye? I assumed you had a number of friends here.”

 

“I did in high school, but we grew apart after college, more so after I went to New York. Since then, I’ve been occupied with Henry.” She smiled. “What about you? Life in Storybrooke kept you busy?”

 

“I’m afraid not. Teaching has been my top priority, other than Henry. I’m ashamed to say I’ve lived here three months, and the only people I come into contact with regularly are my students. And Granny, who tries her hand at flirting when I go in for breakfast.”

 

Emma snickered. She believed him knowing Granny’s tactics with men,but it surprised her he was a loner now. His charisma made him friends in college. It was odd that aspect changed afterwards, and also another reminder she had no knowledge of his life between graduation and Storybrooke, including his presence there. The thought had been nagging her for weeks now, but she’d always thought it in her best interest not to ask. However, he was the father of her child and now a part of his life. Didn’t that give her the right to know things?

 

“So...why Storybrooke?”

 

Killian looked taken aback; he didn’t expect such a loaded question out of nowhere. “Erm, I don’t know. Seemed like a nice place?”

 

Emma rolled her eyes. They’d already established he couldn’t get a lie past her. “I’m serious, Killian. You decided to ditch Seattle for a place you’d never been to before, let alone  _ my  _ hometown?”

 

“What makes you think I was in Seattle?”

 

“You weren’t?”

 

“Well, yes. But I’m pointing out you don’t know as much about my life as you think.”

 

“I would if you would tell me!” she exclaimed. Her voice dropped to a whisper when she realized she’d attracted the attention of a group of kids nearby. “I’m not saying you need to spill all your secrets, but you’ve got to admit the Storybrooke thing doesn’t add up from my side.”

 

Killian realized she wouldn’t let it go. “Fine. If you bloody insist, I’ll tell you. Just not here.”

 

She was confused when he gestured for her to follow him out. “Aren’t we supposed to watch the kids?”

 

“Yes. But I don’t think our present company will be offended with our absence.” 

 

Emma glanced around the room. Most of the kids were either tapping at their phones or sulking in the corner, waiting to leave. The other chaperones were talking among themselves. It took seeing Regina with her back turned for her to give in and follow him. 

 

They ended up in his classroom, Emma leaning against the closed door and he on his desk, looking as if this were the last conversation in the world he wanted to have.

 

“You want to know why I left Seattle?”

 

“Yeah, but particularly why you’re in Storybrooke.”

 

Killian rubbed a hand over his face as he thought. “Well, where to start? I graduated, moved to Seattle, went to grad school. My intentions were to get involved with publishing, but I was drawn to teaching instead. I didn’t care about age groups or specifics, just wanted to help educate and inspire students as my teachers did for me. I taught in community colleges until I got involved with a mentoring program and ended up transitioning to primary schools.”

 

“Which explains the job here,” she finished for him.

 

“Aye. I was content in Seattle, but it didn’t feel like home. That is, until-” he paused, looking uncomfortable. “Until I met Milah. We met at a school district meeting a little over a year ago. She taught at another school in the city, third grade. We became friends, but it didn’t take long to grow into something else. I knew she and her husband had just separated, but I’ll admit I was so caught up in the moment I never gave it much thought. We’d been together a few months when their teenage son begged her to give his father another chance. She agreed. And that’s the end of it.” 

 

The crestfallen look on his face made her heart ache for him. “I’m so sorry, Killian.”

 

His smile didn’t reach his eyes. “It’s alright. I don’t have any ill will towards her. It’s understandable why she wanted to make things work for the lad’s sake. I just hoped things would be different. Anyway,” he continued, “this happened, oh, three or four months ago. I realized I needed to move on - from Seattle, from everything. It sounds crazy, but…” he looked hesitant. “I came to Storybrooke because of you, love.” 

 

Emma was bewildered. “Because of me? I thought you didn’t know I was here.”

 

“Trust me, I didn’t. As I said, I’d decided to leave Seattle. I didn’t know where to go next, but I began to make preparations and hoped a solution would come eventually. I was packing up my apartment when I came across a handful of photos you’d given me in school, not long after we started dating.”

 

“Oh?” 

 

“Aye. You’d come home for the weekend - you invited me, but I was working. Mary Margaret had taken pictures of you in spots across Storybrooke- the town square, the harbor. I looked through them again, saw how happy you looked. I knew I wanted a change from the city, and thought perhaps it was a sign. Maybe it was crazy, Emma, to feel so strongly about a place I’d never been, but I did. I moved at the first of the year and got my teaching job. And that’s it.” 

 

Killian was right: it was crazy to a certain extent. She’d impacted his coming to Storybrooke just as she’d decided to come back herself.

 

Mary Margaret would have called it fate, but Emma wasn’t sure what to call it yet.

 

“Killian?” It was hard to think of the right thing to say. “I don’t know it this helps, but I’m glad you ended up in Storybrooke.”

 

His smile made her heart still in a way it hadn’t in ten years. “Aye, love. So am I.” 

 

-/-

 

That night at the school changed something between them. Their brief texts about his time with Henry had become long conversations on everything from Netflix to foreign foods to books she’d read via his recommendations. (She vividly remembered when they’d stayed up past two in the morning comparing Lord of the Rings to the Narnia books. She had been exhausted at work the next day, but regretted none of it.)

 

They’d also been spending time together with Henry. It started unintentionally- Killian arrived at Granny’s one afternoon when she and Henry were having lunch, and Emma invited him to join. Their son, who had enjoyed spending time with both of his parents, asked if it could be a regular occurrence. Emma saw no reason to object. The three of them now had lunch together once a week, sometimes more if their schedules permitted it. They’d also gone to the movies a few times, along with a few school events Henry participated in.

 

Emma could easily imagine the wheels in Mary Margaret’s head turning whenever Killian was mentioned. Her sister-in-law hadn’t asked for details on their relationship since that day in the dress shop, but she didn’t have to mention it. Emma knew she held out hope for some kind of fairytale romance. 

 

But Mary Margaret wasn’t alone. Recently, Emma and Henry had been eating dinner when her son stopped rambling about  _ Star Wars _ to ask, “Are you and my dad gonna get back together?”

 

She nearly choked on her spaghetti. “Uh, what makes you ask, kid?” she’d responded after downing a generous amount of water. “Did Killian say something to you about this?” She hated how her pulse quickened at the thought.

 

“No. But you’ve started spending more time together and stuff. I figured something changed.”

 

A  _ lot _ had changed, but explaining that to a nine-year old would be difficult. “It’s not always that simple, Henry. Your dad and I are on good terms and have been trying to spend time with you as a family, but that doesn’t mean we could get back together.”

 

Emma worried he would be upset, but he shrugged. “I just don’t think you should be afraid of giving him another chance.”

 

_ I’m not afraid of giving  _ him _ another chance _ she thought. _ It’s him who I’m worried about not giving another chance to  _ me _. _

 

-/-

 

Henry was up to something.

 

Emma had suspected as much for the past week, but it became hard to ignore by Friday. He’d been spending a large amount of alone time in his room, and ran out the door that morning with barely a word for her. It stung since he’d be spending the afternoon and the next day with Killian, but she assumed it was normal, maybe even preparation for his teenage years when he’d be embarrassed to admit she existed.

 

The station was busy, causing her to forget about Henry’s behavior. But she was abruptly reminded of it when Killian called after four. “Hey, what’s up?”

 

“Is Henry with you?” He sounded frantic.

 

“No. I thought he was hanging out with you today?”

 

“Bloody hell, he was supposed to. I had a meeting with a parent after school and asked him to wait in the school library with Belle until I finished. That was twenty minutes ago, and he never came.”

 

Emma’s heart dropped. “And you don’t know where he could be?” She tried to ignore the terrifying scenarios running through her mind. Storybrooke may have been a small, safe town, but she knew thanks to working in law enforcement the worst was capable of happening.

 

“We were supposed to go to the park after my meeting, but I don’t see why he would have gone alone.” He let out a string of muffled curses. “I’m sorry, Emma. If anything’s happened to him-”

 

“Don’t talk like that!” she interrupted. “This isn’t your fault. I’m sure he wandered off, you know how easily distracted he is. I’ll come to the school and we can look for him.”

 

Emma drove up at the school minutes later. She’d probably broken a dozen traffic violations in the process, but there was little chance David would put his deputy behind bars.

 

Killian waited on the sidewalk, and she motioned for him to get in the car. “He just left?!” she asked as soon as he was seated beside her.

 

“Aye. Some of the teachers saw him leaving, but assumed he was going to get on the bus.”

 

“Shit,” she swore as she put the car in drive and pulled onto the road. The only solution she knew of was driving around until they found some sign of him. “Why the hell would he do something like this? I don’t let him walk up the street to Granny’s alone.”

 

“I’ve no idea. It’s certainly not like him.”

 

They drove into town, hoping to see Henry sitting on a bench or looking in a store window. Emma had driven up the same street twice now when she asked, “Didn’t you say you were going to the park? Maybe he’s there.”

 

“It’s worth trying.” She stopped in the middle of the road and made a sharp U-turn, not noticing when Killian grabbed the handle above his seat. She felt her stomach spin right along with the car and ignored the sounds of blaring car horns and curses from their exasperated drivers. Her son was worth committing a traffic violation for.

 

Seeing their son playing his Gameboy by the park entrance nearly made Emma cry with relief. “Henry!” she called as they approached him. “What are you doing here? You had us worried sick! You know you shouldn’t have come alone.”

 

“Sorry.” The boy winced as Emma embraced him. “I wanted to get you both here.”

 

“Lad, if that were the case, I could easily have asked your mother to join us.” He tried to smile, but she could tell his nerves were shot, like her own.

 

Henry hung his head, realizing how much stress he’d caused. “Sorry,” he apologized again.

 

“It’s okay, just don’t do it again. Now, why did you want us both here?” 

 

“Oh.” She released him as he reached into his backpack and looked through its contents. “I brought you here for your date.”

 

Emma was sure she misheard him. She and Killian looked back and forth from each other to their son, confused. “Kid, what are you talking about?”

 

“I figured you wouldn’t give each other another chance without a push. So, here’s your push.” He pulled a paper bag from his backpack and held it up. “I got donuts from the bakery. Dibs on the chocolate frosted.”

 

He set them up for a  _ date _ ? “For the record, I had nothing to do with this, Swan,” Killian explained. “Er, not that I truly mind the idea of- nevermind.”

 

Henry took a donut (chocolate frosted) and gave the bag to her. “I’m gonna take this and play my Game Boy over there.” He nodded toward another bench several feet away. “And you two are gonna eat donuts and talk about...whatever grown ups talk about. I threw this together in a hurry.” He took his things and ran to the other bench before she or Killian could object.

 

“Apologies, love. I don’t know where he got the idea from.”

 

“I do,” she admitted. “He’s been asking questions about us. But I didn’t picture him going this far.”

 

She and Killian stared at each other, both at a loss for words. He broke the silence by gesturing to the bag in her hands. “Might as well take advantage of those. Don’t want them to go to waste.” He smiled, and she couldn’t help but laugh despite how awkward it all was.

 

His questionable decisions aside, Emma couldn’t stay mad at Henry as she polished off a bear claw. Killian sat on the opposite side of the bench, eating his own donut and pointedly avoiding her gaze. They’d both used the food as an excuse to sit in awkward silence, but there were things needed to be discussed. 

 

“I’ve got to give Henry some credit,” Killian said. “He’s a smart lad.”

 

“I’m sorry. I really had no idea he’d do this. I understand if this makes you uncomfortable.”

 

His brow furrowed in confusion. “Why would it make me uncomfortable, love?”

 

Emma felt uncomfortable thinking of a response. It would be difficult to answer without revealing her feelings for him. “What we’ve got going with Henry has been great. But I don’t want this,” she gestured to the bag of donuts between them “to make you to feel like you owe me something more because have a kid together.”

 

“This doesn’t make me feel anything like that, Swan.”

 

Her heart sank. “What do you mean?” She was scared to hear the answer. Was he going to tell her any chance of rekindling what they had was gone?   
  


“What I mean is that I’ve spent the better part of ten years trying to move on from you. I thought perhaps as time passed, it would be easier to put things behind me. But that never worked.” Killian looked at her with such intense fervor in his eyes that she found it impossible to tear her gaze from him. “I attempted to stay occupied with school, and then my job after graduating. I told you about Milah, and while I cared for her a great deal, I wonder now if things would have worked out between us. Because I’ve accepted that my heart is yours, love. I think it always has been.”

 

Emma stared at him, dumbfounded. His words had put most of her fears to rest. “Are you saying you want another go at this?” she asked, her voice uneven. “At us?”

 

“That’s ultimately up to you. But, if I’m being truthful, then, yes. I do.”

 

She looked away from him, staring at her hands folded in her lap. “You’re putting a lot of faith in me considering I fucked up the last time. Killian, I was too scared to consider us having a future. I kept Henry from you for ten years!”

 

“Which I’ve since forgiven you for.”

 

“Still, that doesn’t mean I won’t unintentionally do something to hurt you again. I don’t want you to put your heart on the line when I’m not sure I can be the person you deserve.” 

 

“You don’t have to be sure for me to know what I want. I have faith in you, love. I only wish you had it in yourself.”

 

Emma bit her lip to hold back the tears that pricked her eyes. He was again choosing to see the best in her despite everything that happened in the past. The real question was, could she put aside her own fears and insecurities to do the same?

 

“Okay,” she breathed.

 

“Okay?”

 

“I’m willing to give this a chance.” She glanced at him hesitantly. “That is, if you’re really sure.”

 

The grin on his face was enough to answer her. “I’ve never been more sure of anything, Swan.”

 

“Go out with me?” she asked before she lost her nerve. “Henry did a nice job with the donuts and all, but-”

 

“Of course,” he answered, understanding she’d like something nicer for what would technically be their second first date. “I accept on one condition: you let me plan the evening.”

 

“I know how to plan a date!”

 

“I’m sure you do. Just let me have this one, Swan, and the next is all yours.”

 

“Next? Confident, aren’t you?”

 

“Perhaps,” he smirked. If it had been anyone else, she would’ve argued, but there was no winning this. Besides, she was eager to see what he had in mind.

 

“Just let me know where and when.”

 

“Would tonight be too soon?” he asked. “I’m sure it’s inconvenient, but considering how much time we’ve lost already…”

 

He didn’t need to finish for her to understand. “Yeah, of course. Henry can stay with David and Mary Margaret.” She didn’t know if they were free tonight, but figured this was the perfect time to cash in on helping Mary Margaret with the dance several weeks ago.

 

“Perfect. I’ll pick you up at seven?”

 

“I’ll be waiting.”

 

-/-

 

“Where are you going?” Henry leaned against the bathroom doorway and watched as she stood at the mirror getting ready.

 

“No idea. Your dad’s doing all the planning.” Emma finished her makeup and began to style her hair, the brush shaking a bit in her hands. She hadn’t expected to be so nervous. It had been over a year since her last date, but this was different. Tonight would determine if she and Killian were capable of fully rekindling their relationship. 

 

She saw Henry smirk out of the corner of her eye. “Bet you’re not so mad at me for setting you up today, are you?”

 

“No. Just  _ don’t  _ do it again,” she reminded him, tying her hair into a low ponytail and following him out of the bathroom. “You should get your stuff and head up to David and Mary Margaret’s. Killian should be here soon.” Truthfully, she didn’t want Henry around when his father arrived in case he asked questions they couldn’t answer yet.

 

Ten minutes later, Henry was upstairs with his aunt and uncle. Emma had never told Mary Margaret why she needed a babysitter, and groaned as she thought of the lecture she’d receive once she and David found out she’d been with Killian. She finished dressing in her outfit from the school dance as there was a knock at the door. Her heart pounded as she grabbed her purse and gave herself a once-over in the mirror.

 

She didn’t know what to expect when she opened the door. But seeing Killian also dressed in his outfit from the dance made her want to laugh. (She thought of the Halloween party they’d attended not long after they met. They surprised each other by both dressing as Harry Potter characters. He told her that night they were more alike than they thought, and he wasn’t wrong.) And maybe something else, too. The way the leather jacket and tight jeans clung to him had ignited something in her several weeks ago she’d almost forgotten had existed. But tonight, it was all for her, and she felt warm enough to melt into a puddle at his feet.

 

“You look stunning, Swan.”

 

She struggled for words “You look-”

 

“I know.” He held out his hand and she took it, closing the door behind her. 

 

“Where are we going?”

 

“You’ll see, love. I think you’ll approve.”

 

They walked hand in hand across town, reminiscent of the nights they ditched homework for walking around Boston together for hours. If not for Henry and everything else that happened over the past decade, she might have found it possible to believe no time had passed.

 

“Here we are.” Killian stopped when they arrived at the Italian restaurant by the docks. She and Henry had come a few times since moving to Storybrooke, and it had since become one of their favorite places. “The lad might have mentioned your liking for the lasagna.” 

 

“He was right,” she told him as they walked inside. “Don’t tell Granny, but it’s not the same frozen.”

 

“Careful, Swan. You may find yourself in trouble if someone overhears you.”

 

The night went better than she could have hoped for. All talk of heartbreak and the past was put aside for casual conversation, again like the nights they spent together during their senior year when homework and professors were their biggest problems. 

 

“I’m afraid you’re right, love,” Killian agreed when she’d convinced him to try the lasagna. “This is certainly better than whatever it is that Granny serves.”

 

“And you told  _ me _ to watch my words. You’d be in jeopardy of not being her favorite customer anymore if she finds out.” 

 

She told him stories of difficult bail jumpers she encountered in New York, and he shared the shenanigans of his last group of students in Seattle. Although she’d learned he was in Storybrooke several months ago now, it was still difficult to comprehend how they wound up back in each other’s orbit after so much time apart.

 

“You seem to be doing a wonderful job with your class.” Emma smiled as she took a bite from the ice cream dish they’d decided to split after dinner. “I can’t speak for the other kids, but Henry’s grades are the best they’ve ever been.”

 

Killian shrugged as his face flushed pink with slight embarrassment. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I can’t take much credit. He’s a smart lad...although I may be slightly biased. You’ve done well with him, Swan.”

 

“So have you. No, I mean it,” Emma continued when he looked unconvinced. “I know it’s only been a few months now, but you mean the world to him and I can already tell what a positive impact you’ve had on his life. Don’t sell yourself short.”

 

He reached across the table for her hand and held it in his for a moment before replying. “You don’t know how much that means to me, love.”

 

“It’s true. Even though it disappoints him you don’t think Pop Tarts are an acceptable breakfast.”

 

“I’m just looking out for the boy’s health! Swan, are you aware of how much sugar and chemicals are in those bloody things?”

 

“The sugar and chemicals are what make those  _ bloody things _ good.” She laughed as he cringed at her poor imitation of his accent.

 

Emma realized how much she wanted this as he sat across from her and talked about their son, telling her some joke Henry had shared with him in class the day before. There might always be fear of the worst happening or walls of hers needing to be broken down, but something told her it would be worth it. Killian had proved over the last few months he was in for the long haul as far as Henry was concerned. It wasn’t hard to believe he’d do the same for her. 

 

There was a shared sense of disappointment when they arrived back at her apartment. “I would invite you in for coffee, but I should get Henry from David and Mary Margaret. It’s almost his bedtime.” 

 

“I suppose we’ll just have to wait until next time.”

 

“Again with the next time? I don’t remember asking.”

 

“That’s because it’s my turn. Will you go out with me again?” A hint of anticipation flickered in his eyes- not nervousness, but desire.

 

Emma knew her answer before the words left his mouth. But instead of speaking, she responded the way she’d wanted to for weeks now. 

 

Killian saw her leaning in and closed the distance between them. The first press of his lips to hers was soft, hesitant even. She encouraged him for more, wrapping her arms around his neck and pulling him flush against her. His own hands moved to her waist, under the jacket she’d pilfered from him at the restaurant. 

 

It was hard not to groan when his tongue traced the seam of her lips, and like everything tonight, it reminded her what could exist between them. There were many things she loved about Killian Jones, but his ability to set her heart racing like nothing else stood out among the rest. 

 

(Yes, she loved him. She was done trying to deny it.) 

 

Regretfully, he broke the kiss to come up for air. “That was…”

 

“Yeah.” 

 

“I should let you go.” She slipped off his jacket and returned it to him. “Tell the lad I’ll see him tomorrow?” 

 

“I will. Night, Killian.” 

 

“Goodnight, love.”

 

-/-

 

As expected, David and Mary Margaret lost their minds over the date.

 

Mary Margaret seemed disappointed she missed out on “all the fun.” David crossed his arms and asked a number of thorough questions.

 

“We had dinner,  _ Dad _ .” Emma rolled her eyes.

 

“I’m making sure he was a gentleman!”

 

The questions continued when they came over Tuesday night. 

 

“When are you going out again? What are you going to do? Have you picked an outfi-”

 

“Geez, Mary Margaret,” Emma interrupted. “Can we slow down a bit?”

 

“Sorry! I’m excited.”

 

“Just be glad she’s not like Uncle David,” Henry pointed out. “Then you’d have both acting like your parents.”

 

“Hey!” the uncle in question protested.

 

Emma smiled. “It’s okay, David. I’m glad you care so much.” She turned to Mary Margaret. “I don’t know when we’re going out or what we’re doing. I’ll choose my outfit when the time comes.”

 

“Go out Saturday. I’m going to a sleepover at Nicholas’,” her son informed her.

 

“When were you going to tell me this?”

 

“Uh, now?”

 

“Good call. I’ll see if he’s doing anything Saturday night.”

 

Mary Margaret squealed with joy.

 

David leaned over and whispered, “I think she’s more excited than you.”

 

“You think?”

 

-/-

 

Emma lost count of how many times she’d cleaned the apartment on Saturday. When she came back from taking Henry to his sleepover at six, it felt like returning to a stranger’s home. It hadn’t been this tidy since they moved in. Killian hadn’t minded her messy college apartment years earlier, but she prefered resembling a mature adult who  _ somewhat _ had her life together.

 

She’d invited him over at seven for pizza and a movie. It seemed like a boring date, but Killian wasn’t hard to please, and the pizza place delivered.

 

(The added bonus of having the loft to herself tonight didn’t hurt.)

 

Killian arrived at five to seven, after the pizza was dropped off. 

 

“Hello, love.”

 

“Hi.” She stepped back from the door to let him in. “Thanks for coming. I know it’s not anything exciting, but…”

 

“Nonsense. Time spent in your company is exciting enough.” 

 

“I’m glad you think so.” She stood on her toes to kiss him briefly, and it was enough to ignite the feeling in her stomach she refused to call ‘butterflies’. “Is _Prisoner of Azkaban_ still your favorite Harry Potter movie?” They’d broken up before the last few were released, but she doubted this had changed thanks to his fondness for Lupin.

 

“Aye.”

 

“Good. If you still like bacon on pizza, we’re in luck.”

 

He did like bacon on pizza, thankfully. Said pizza was demolished as they watched Harry use the Marauder’s map to sneak into Hogsmeade. 

 

“I can see why this is your favorite,” she said. “No one dies.”

 

“That _ is _ an upside.” He chuckled. “I recall less than pleasant memories seeing the others.” They’d gone with David and Mary Margaret to the midnight premiere for _ Order of the Phoenix _ , and all four cried multiple times before it ended.

 

“Do you remember the Halloween we both dressed in Gryffindor robes? I thought of it last Friday when we wore the same clothes from the school dance.”

 

“I remember. I said something along the lines of us being more alike than you thought.”

 

“More than being in the same Hogwarts house?”

 

“Much more.” He smiled. “I never told you this, but that night was when I started to fall in love with you.”

 

“Really? We barely knew each other, aside from complaining about Gold in class.”

 

“That didn’t matter. Seeing you so excited about your house robe and wand did something for me, and by the end of the night, I knew you were special. For the record,” he continued, “my thoughts haven’t changed.”

 

Emma didn’t hesitate before grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and fusing her mouth with his. She could tell the kiss surprised him, but he quickly welcomed it, one hand on her hip and the other tangled in her hair. It wasn’t unlike their kiss in the hall, but still different. Last time she’d needed to tend to Henry, and this thing between them was still new. Tonight, there were no distractions, and she was certain of what she wanted.

 

She found herself in Killian’s lap, and ran her fingers through his messy hair as he continued to kiss her. His hand slipped under the hem of her sweater to rest on her waist, and she gasped slightly at the feel of it against her skin. He pulled back. “I’m sorry, love. I didn’t-“

 

She cut him off with another kiss and reassured him by guiding his hand back to her waist. “Don’t apologize.”

 

It hadn’t taken long for the kiss to become something more. It took even less time after she angled her hips just right against his and he gasped “ _ Swan _ ” against her lips for her to stand, taking his hand and guiding him to her bedroom.

 

(Neither of them paid mind to the movie still playing or the pizza box they’d knocked onto the floor. They had ten years of lost time to make up for.)

 

-/-

 

Emma woke the next morning with an arm around her waist and lips pressing kisses to her bare shoulder. “Morning, love.”

 

“Morning. Sleep well?”

 

“Not a wink. Certain blonde kept me up all night.” 

 

The sound of her laugh was cut off by the door to the apartment slamming shut. “Mom?”

 

“Dammit!” She’d forgotten Nicholas’ parents were bringing Henry home. “Just a minute, kid!” she called when she heard footsteps outside her room. “I’m getting dressed.” She jumped out of bed and grabbed an outfit from the closet as Killian quickly dressed in his own clothes. 

 

“What are you going to tell him, Swan?”

 

“That’s a good question. There are some things I’m  _ not _ ready for our nine year old to learn about yet.” 

 

“I understand, but it’s not as if we have many options.” 

 

She tried to think of a solution, and was contemplating telling Henry the awkward truth when he called, “I’m gonna take a shower.”

 

“Now!” She brought Killian out when she heard the water turn on. “He’ll think you came over for breakfast or something.” 

 

They were making pancakes when Henry emerged fifteen minutes later, wet hair plastered to his head. “Dad?”

 

“Morning, lad.”

 

“Did you have fun at Nicholas’?” Emma asked.

 

“Yeah. His mom made brownies and let us watch  _ The Avengers _ .” He sat down at the kitchen table. “I didn’t know you guys were having a sleepover too.”

 

She nearly dropped the bowl of pancake batter as she and Killian stared at each other dumbfounded. “What makes you think that?”

 

“Nice job trying to trick me, but the coat rack gave it away when I got home.” Sure enough, Killian’s jacket still hung where he’d left it last night.

 

“There’s no point in trying to fool him, Swan,” Killian whispered. “He’s smarter than either of us.”

 

Emma turned to Henry. “Are you okay with all this?” 

 

“Why wouldn’t I be? You’re happy. I’m happy. And there’s pancakes!”

 

She pulled him into a hug and laughed at his groan when she kissed the top of his head. “Sorry, kid. I’m not stopping anytime soon.” She extended her arm towards Killian, and he embraced both of them. 

 

“I love you guys,” Henry said. “But can I have pancakes now?”

 

-/-

 

“Eight fifteen, guys. Time to go!”

 

It was Henry’s first day of fifth grade, his last year in elementary school. Emma had mixed feelings about how much he’d grown over the last eight months, but was grateful there were eight years before things like college and adulthood came into the picture.

 

Killian came out of the bedroom as she finished making Henry’s sandwich. “Ready, lad?” he called up the stairs, adjusting the sleeve of his blazer.

 

“I’ll be down in a minute.”

 

He had moved into the loft with them once his lease had ended over the summer. They discussed buying a house in the future, but their current arrangement suited them for now.

 

She smiled as she glanced over her shoulder and saw him dressed in his normal work attire, complete with the reading glasses she’d taken such a liking to. “How prepared are we for the new class, Professor Jones?” The nickname had stuck since she’d admitted to comparing him to Harrison Ford the first time she saw him wearing the glasses in his classroom.

 

He came up behind her in the kitchen and wrapped his arms around her waist. “I’m expecting all to go well. The children I met at open house seemed to like me. Although it’s going to be odd without Henry in the room.”

 

“All his future teachers have big shoes to fill.” She knew Henry would miss being in Killian’s class, but he’d already taken a liking to Ariel, the fifth grade teacher who’d moved to Storybrooke a few months earlier.

 

Their son came barreling down the stairs, school bag in one hand and a book in the other. “I’m ready.”

 

She pulled away from Killian long enough to kiss him goodbye, much to his chagrin. “I’ll see you this afternoon. Love you.”

 

Henry tried to nonchalantly wipe his cheek where she’d kissed it with his shirt sleeve. “Love you too.”

 

Killian pulled her back to him and rested his chin on her shoulder. “Remember we’re having dinner at David and Mary Margaret’s. They’ll get suspicious if we’re late again,” she whispered where Henry couldn’t hear, thinking of the moment in the backseat of her bug that made them nearly twenty minutes late for the last family dinner. It was obvious her brother and sister-in-law hadn’t believed whatever excuse they’d come up with.

 

“I’ll be there. I’ll even come early, if that’s any consolation.”

 

“It is.”

 

“Good. Do I get a kiss goodbye as well?” 

 

“I’ll consider it.” Emma turned in his arms and leaned in just as Henry made a gagging sound.

 

“Ugh! You guys are so gross!”

 

“Get used to it, kid.” She smiled as she kissed his father. “Something tells me this won’t change anytime soon.” That something was the ring box she knew was hidden in the back of Killian’s sock drawer. She’d found it last week when putting away the laundry, and hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it since. Maybe their six-month anniversary dinner Saturday night would be more eventful than she’d thought.

 

“Not if I have anything to do with it, love,” Killian agreed. He turned to Henry. “And I’d be nice to me if I were you. Notice I didn’t object when you put Pop Tarts in the cart at the store yesterday.”

 

“Huh. Love sure does make you do strange things.”

 


End file.
